


A Guiding Light

by EmmyJay



Category: The Dark Crystal (1982), The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Baby Names, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Genocide, My Headcanon On Kira's Name, Pregnancy, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyJay/pseuds/EmmyJay
Summary: "I've been thinking about names," he murmured one such night, his ear pressed to her belly and his hands stroking her sides. "I admit, I don't really have any ideas for a boy—""I told you, she's a girl."Gurjin flicked her lightly on the hip. "And I told you, my mother said there's no way of knowing that yet." But he didn't argue Seladon's intuition.
Relationships: Gurjin/Seladon (Dark Crystal), pre-Jen/Kira (Dark Crystal)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	A Guiding Light

**Author's Note:**

> I thought to myself, you know what? I put Seladon through way too much shit. Time to give her some nice things. Like a family.
> 
> And then I wrote this instead. :')
> 
> (Not 100% pleased with this, will likely be doing spot revisions here and there, just minor things.)

Seladon was pregnant.

The timing could have been worse, but not by much: after nearly a trine of holding their base at Stone-In-The-Wood, the Resistance had been driven out by the arrival of a horde of strange creatures, their claws and glittering black carapaces like the Spitters, but nothing else about them familiar. Their strength had been matched only by their numbers, and before nightfall all those Gelfling and Arathim who still lived had been forced to give up the fight and flee, hastily implementing the escape plans they had charted previously with no real expectation of needing them.

Scouts later reported the entire area around the old Stonewood city to be over-run with the things, still turning every stone and tearing off every roof in search of stragglers. Stone-In-The-Wood would no longer be a haven for the Gelfling Resistance; a new base of operations would need to be established. And Seladon, as All-Maudra, found herself overseeing that tactical discussion with a fourth moon protruding from her front, and ankles so swollen that she had started foregoing shoes whenever the length of her skirts would conceal it.

It didn't help that she was barely sleeping, now that the childling had begun spending most of the night rearranging her internals. In the beginning it had been a joyous occasion whenever she moved, a confirmation that yes, there was life inside her, a future that she had created, was _still_ creating. But then the limbs had grown stronger, and the kicks became fiercer, and the novelty of her squirming babe quickly wore away into a tired frustration.

By the time they had established a temporary hold in the outskirts of the Sog, Seladon was already counting down the days until Maudra Laesid had estimated she was due, ready to have this troublesome creature out of her where, at the very least, she could no longer get a foot lodged between her mother's ribs whenever she felt like it.

The only thing that tempered the babe's restlessness, it seemed, was Gurjin. A touch of his hand to her belly, and the thrashing stilled; a few whispered words from his mouth, and Seladon felt a sense of calm inside of herself, as though the childling could sense her father's presence. He could not be there all the time, of course, with both of them bound to their respective duties. But one time he could be there was at night, when it seemed the squirming as at its worst ("it's because you're still," Laesid had explained, "you rock and soothe the babe with your body when you're up and moving") and his presence was most welcome. Seladon would lie on her side, and he would curl up in front of her, pressing his face into her belly. It could not possibly have been the most comfortable position to sleep in, but the reprieve was such a boon that Seladon was loath to question it, content simply to let him soothe the beast within.

"I've been thinking about names," he murmured one such night, his ear pressed to her belly and his hands stroking her sides. "I admit, I don't really have any ideas for a boy—"

"I told you, she's a girl."

Gurjin flicked her lightly on the hip. "And I told you, my mother said there's no way of knowing that yet." But he didn't argue Seladon's intuition, and she stroked a hand through his locs in silent thanks.

"Go on, then," she prompted, "what were you thinking?"

Gurjin's head turned to press his face fully against her, mouthing kisses against her navel. "How about 'Mayrin'?"

It felt as though all the breath flew out of Seladon at once. Her fingers stilled between Gurjin's locs, frozen with the thoughts now whirling about her mind. She was only dimly aware when he pulled away, raising himself on one arm to better see her face.

"Seladon?" he questioned, brushing the knuckles of his free hand across her unscarred cheek. "Love? Are you alright?"

Seladon's air returned in a gasp that didn't feel like it reached her lungs. Her eyes focused on Gurjin's face: his eyes warm with affection, beneath a brow knit with concern.

"I," she began, but found no words to continue. She tried again, "it is a good name," and added, "my mother was a strong leader, and beloved; any childling would be honoured to carry her legacy."

It was not a lie, not even a partial one: every word was the truth, as Seladon believed it in her heart of hearts. Mayrin had stood her ground before the Skeksis at the cost of her own life; she had held to what she knew was right, even as it flew in the face of everything she thought she knew. She had been strong, and steadfast, a leader in every sense of the word. Her name was an honour, and one the other Maudras would no doubt commend her for.

And yet...

"Alright." Gurjin's arms encircled her, pulling her against him as close as the babe would allow. "Not Mayrin, then."

Seladon sagged in relief, and clutched gratefully at his arms shielding her from a wound so old she could not even remember when it had first been inflicted. However much she had loved her mother, loved her still—the name was still too raw, with too many trine's worth of resentment attached to it. She would always associate it with what had been _before_ : the distance, and the rigidity, and the bone-crushing loneliness she thought she would never escape.

She did not want to give her daughter a name that meant looking back. She only ever wanted her to look forward, toward the light to guide them home.

A tiny fist struck her somewhere vital, and it felt like an agreement.

"I could start digging up my family tree for other ideas," Gurjin was saying. "Or we can just start asking around. I'm sure Brea has a thousand names in her head, from all those stories she loves; maybe she can write some down, and you can read them to me, and we can—"

"Actually," Seladon interrupted, her voice muffled against his chest, "I think I have an idea of my own."

\---

"Kira."

He said it partly to get her attention, and partly just to enjoy the feel of it in his mouth. It was a wonderful name, in Jen's opinion—pulling his mouth into a smile with the first syllable, then the second escaping like a sigh. _Kira_ , _Kee-rah_. He could say it forever, if she would let him.

"Does your name mean anything in Podling?"

Across the small boat, the girl in question—a Gelfling, like him, like he'd never imagined—shook her head.

"It's not a Podling name," she answered. "I don't know what it means; my mom just said that it was mine."

Jen's gaze fell to his hands, his _firca_ cradled between them. A Gelfling instrument, the Master had told him, one they had played for thousands of trine. He knew so little of the world that had been _before_ , but even so his mind cast across his lessons, thinking of every fragment he had ever gathered, shards like the one he now carried.

"There are trees," he said at length, "great ancient things, beloved to Gelfling. They called one of them Kira...Kira-Something. Or maybe it was a grove?" His eyes lifted again, and when they landed on the girl across from him he couldn't fathom why he would ever look anywhere else.

"The Master said they used it as a guide, a light to bring them home when they were lost."

Kira tilted her head in curiosity, and in the waning light of the suns her hair seemed to glow—a golden beacon of the future, shining in the falling dark.

"It suits you," he declared.

Her responding smile made him feel warm.


End file.
